


A Colorful Skirmish

by Pandora (paperclipbutterfly)



Series: Plot Bunnies and Rogue Foxes [1]
Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gambling, Gen, Paintball, Slice of Life, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-10-23 18:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17689013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperclipbutterfly/pseuds/Pandora
Summary: An exercise at a paintball field outside of the city brings out the best and the worst in the ZPD's finest as the officers compete to see who can take out Officer Hopps first... or if she will simply wipe the floor with them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A shoutout to Ubernoner, LionKingAlex, and LordKraus for feeding this plot bunny. I'll have you know this is all your fault. XD
> 
> Enjoy it!

“I don’t know about this, Fluff.”

Nick picked up a small green paintball pellet from the plastic container and rolled it between his paw pads. The greasy, slick residue coating remained even after he dropped it back from whence it came.

“It’s just a standard training exercise, Nick,” Judy said, and slipped on the goggles that all participants were required to wear before stepping foot on the paintball field. “Besides... it looks like fun.”

“‘Fun,’ she says.” His ears laid back, his face now etched in concern. “Carrots, have you seen the size of these things?”

“They’re... what, like, pea-sized? Maybe a little bigger?”

“A pea flying at the same velocity as a BB. Francine won’t flinch. McHorn might laugh at the tickle. You’ll be hobbling for a week if one of these hits you.”

“Maybe,” she replied, then turned to him with a devious and cocky grin as she paused at the door. “But first it has to hit me.”

*****

Judy may as well have issued a formal challenge to the rest of the ZPD officers participating in the exercise. The boast spread like wildfire through dry kindling, and within ten minutes there was a sizable pool of bets as to who was going to be the one to land a paintball on the rabbit officer. 

She laughed when her partner put a twenty in.

“Are you serious, Slick?”

“Of course I am,” he said as he dropped his bucks into the hat between his paws that was serving as the pot. His smug smile was replaced with a fierce expression as he pointed at himself. “This is my serious face.”

She laughed again. “It’s going to look ridiculous when it’s covered in paint.”

Nick waggled the hat back and forth. The change inside jingled cheerfully. “Care to put your money where your tiny mouth is, Carrots?”

Not one to be outdone (certainly not by the prideful fox before her), Judy dug a twenty of her own from her pocket. She stood on tip toes up into his face as she deposited it into the hat.

“When I come out completely paint-free, _this—_ ” Her open paw circled over the rim. “—will all be mine.”

The good-natured whoops and hollers from the other officers rose around them as Nick’s muzzle broke out into a merciless grin. “May the best mammal win.”

*****

“…and at no time while you are out on the field are you to remove your goggles or mask for your own safety! Are we clear?”

“Yes sir!”

Chief Bogo’s overview of the training exercise they were about to engage in was kept short and to the point. The seven officers would enter the fenced, wooded area of the paintball grounds just ahead and would be granted five minutes to find a suitable starting position to begin the match. A horn would sound, and the officers would have the next thirty minutes to eliminate their ‘enemy’ combatants… that is, each other. They each had a gun and a canister of fifty paintballs, each a different color for each officer. The larger officers—McHorn and Francine—would be granted three hits before being considered “killed.” Fangmeyer, Wolford, and Delgato had two hits allowed before they would be declared dead. Nick and Judy… one hit only.

Zebra referees would be patrolling while the match progressed to ensure the participants were being good sports and to escort the “fallen” from the field of battle. A little overhead speaker system would let everyone know when an officer was leaving.

“Good.” Chief Bogo snorted, and pointed toward the fence in the distance. “Grab your gear, then, and hoof it out there. At the end of the exercise, we’ll have a short debrief before hitting the showers and heading back to Zootopia. Dismissed!”

The officers all did final checks of their equipment, adjusted their safety gear, and headed off to the paintball field. The others passed Nick and Judy by on the way, throwing jeers at the bunny and suggesting that she ‘was about to be in a world of hurt,’ ‘better watch your tail out there,’ etc. She gave no response except to blow a soft raspberry at their backs as they went on ahead.

“That was a good show back there,” Nick said after the last of the larger mammals was out of earshot.

Judy’s ears popped up as she tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“The challenge. First-class acting… I’d have given you a standing ovation if it wouldn’t have totally blown our cover.” He kept his voice low as he continued to stare straight ahead with a nonchalant smile. “So, I figure we can use the five minutes to scout a place to meet up. Play keep away for a little while, get to the spot, quick tap in the chest plate. We’ll divvy up the cash when we get back to the—”

She planted her feet and threw out an arm to make him halt his steps as well as his words. “Ooooohhhh, I _know_ you didn’t just suggest I paw the victory over to you, Wilde.”

He blinked in surprise. “That… wasn’t the plan?”

“That’s _cheating._ ”

Nick turned his paw over his wrist dismissively. “Ahhhh, no no no… you’re thinking about this all wrong. It’s just a—”

“I intend to play fair on that field, Nick.” Her words were clipped and short, sharpened with irritation. “And I’m playing to _win_. _Me_ win. Not me let _you_ win.”

His ears laid back. “Carrots, everyone will literally be gunning for you. I told you before… you’re gonna get hurt.”

“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna get. A nice expensive dinner with all your money.” She huffed and stomped away, leaving him to stare after her retreating figure as she called over her shoulder, “Good luck and Godspeed, dumb fox!”

*****

The mammals stood and waited for the grizzled old zebra referee, Sergeant Cantero, to open the field. A veteran of the force himself, he owned and operated the paintball grounds and hosted exercises like this for the Zootopia Police Department fairly often. He even donated a portion of his profits yearly to the Police Widow’s and Children’s Benefit Fund for the families of officers who had lost their lives in the line of duty. His graying stripes contrasted sharply against the neon yellow high-visibility jacket he wore. A black tactical utility belt around his waist held all manner of paraphernalia, from a serrated blade knife to a small first-aid kit.

The Sergeant placed his hoof on the big gate bar latch, preparing to release them into the wooded grounds and begin their five-minutes safe time to position themselves within.

He paused and flicked his one good ear (the other was shredded to ribbons) as he stared at them sternly. “If I hear _any_ gunfire before that horn sounds, folks, I will come find the mammal responsible, personally notify your superior officer, and arrange for a nice long weekend filled with latrine duty. That is a promise. Do not test me.”

They all balked and murmured, “Yes, sir.”

“I’m glad we understand each other.” Sergeant Cantero checked his watch and lifted the bar up, letting the wide gate swing inward. “Your five minutes begins now. Use them wisely, and enjoy your exercise.”

Judy barely waited for him to finish before zipping out from between Francine’s legs and darting immediately into the underbrush. The field was enormous (not just because she was bunny-sized) and she wanted to scout as much of it as possible within the safe time, as well as put ample distance between herself and the other officers.

She ran, still fuming from Nick’s proposed hustle and suggestion that she wasn’t cut out to compete in this match. Wasn’t she an officer? Didn’t they face the same dangers every day out in Zootopia? What made this so different? Hot fury pumped through her blood and she poured on even more speed to burn it off.

The paintball grounds were mostly woodland, with some pieces of debris acting as cover here and there. Just ahead, a pile of tractor tires leaned against one another precariously beside a decrepit old Catlass Supreme that was in the process of being reclaimed by Mother Nature. Judy hopped inside one of the tires to catch her breath for a few seconds. She was easily out of sight from the others, so it was time to evaluate her surroundings and start formulating a plan.

Judy had the most mobility, by far. The megafauna would have limited movement in areas with denser cover. After a quick look around, it was evident that this small clearing where she was holed up was open enough for all manner of mammal to engage her. With another deep breath, she popped her head out. A cursory look and sniff at the air confirmed she was alone. She took off running again.

Still a little time left before the signal. Judy made a wide circle around the clearing. She mentally marked an area with thick and protruding raised roots, a short line of sandbags and crates of assorted sizes, large rocks that she could hide behind or even under, and a half-buried storm-drain pipe. This was a last resort for cover, as the back didn’t open out again but was obstructed by the small raised hill and rotting tree stump behind it. Essentially a dead end.

<Two-minute warning!> the overhead loudspeaker announced. Judy’s ears popped up, and she retraced her steps back to the tires and the moss-covered car shell. If no one was there, that’s where she’d begin. If there was… well, then she’d just position herself close-by and draw first blood.

Nick was right about one thing: the additional monetary incentive would make her the highest priority target. The other officers might even avoid a skirmish with each other in the hopes of staying in long enough to find and take her out. Then again, every officer removed from the field was one less competitor, so it stood to reason that they should still engage if the opportunity presented itself.

They probably expected her to hide. She was certainly small enough to camp somewhere and wait it out, but… that wasn’t the point of doing this exercise. That wasn’t the point of being a cop. She wasn’t one to just hide from danger; she jumped in, put her feet to the ground, and got involved. No, hiding wasn’t her style.

Nothing for it. She’d use the terrain to her advantage, make each shot count… and take down the others first.

Yes, she decided firmly… that included her smart-aleck partner.

Judy was still about fifty yards away from the clearing, though closing the gap quickly. She tightened her grip on the gun, made sure it was ready to fire, and poured speed into her legs as she approached the open ground.

It wasn’t empty.

“… you know they’re probably thinking the same thing, Frankie.”

Judy slowed her steps, shrank lower down toward the ground, and came up behind a twisted tree trunk on a conversation between Officers Trunkaby and McHorn. As she thought, the clearing was a comfortable starting place for the larger mammals, and they were apparently using it to have a discussion in the last minute of the allotted safe time.

McHorn continued. “Wilde and Hopps are going to make it look convincing, pop off a few rounds at the rest of us, he’ll probably take a nice glancing shot at her on a leisurely walk out, and split the pot between them.”

Francine cast her eyes around their immediate vicinity, ears waving and trunk swinging around behind her head in a kind of uncertain gesture. “Wouldn’t put it past Nick. Judy, though…”

McHorn snorted. “I’m telling you, teaming up gives us the best chances of staying in long enough to win it. What do you say?”

“Mmm, thanks anyhow,” Francine said as she shook her head and started around the Catlass. She kept walking away from him toward a larger gap in the trees… directly toward where Judy was crouching. “I think I’d rather try and go it alone. Best of lu—”

_< BRAAAAAAAANK!>_

Adrenaline shot up into her already pounding rabbit heart at the half-buzz, half-siren wail of the horn announcing the start of the exercise. Judy raised her gun, saw the look of surprise on Francine’s face as she caught sight of the bunny beside the tree… and saw McHorn taking aim at her exposed backside.

“BEHIND YOU!”

 _Pop pop pop!_ Too late, Francine took two shots in the back from McHorn before she dropped to the ground and backed up behind the Catlass. Judy squeezed off a few shots of her own— _Sorry, Frankie—_ into the elephant’s shoulder for the kill just as McHorn’s gaze and gun aimed in Judy’s direction. She spun behind the tree trunk again as blue paintballs hit the dirt around her. She took off running in zig zags away from the clearing, the sound of heavy, thundering steps and an annoyed exclamation of, “Don’t you dare let him win it, Judy!” behind her.

 _Oh, don’t worry,_ Judy thought, narrowly avoiding another blue paintball that hit the ground beside her. _I won’t._

*****

From her prior reconnaissance, Judy knew what lay ahead in the direction that she was running. The even ground gave way to fallen, rotting logs and thick, raised tree roots. Easy for her to maneuver through and around, but she figured the irregular terrain would be a challenge for the rhino who couldn’t raise his knees up terribly high or jump without putting ridiculous strain on his legs.

They made it into this area just as the overhead speaker announced the removal of Officer Trunkaby. As expected, while Judy continued to make steady progress through the rough patch, McHorn’s movement was significantly slowed until he was just crawling through the tangle of gnarled roots and logs. His volley of paintball rounds stopped and Judy turned to return fire.

 _Pop pop pop!_ Two of the rounds missed, but the last found its mark and made a nice purple splotch in McHorn’s chest. He grunted and returned fire wildly— _pop pop pop pop!—_ as Judy ducked behind a log. The blue paintball rounds must have hit on the other side as she didn’t see any fly past. A groan of exertion and a sound of splintering wood made her ears pop up with alarm, and she pinned them back again as she risked a look over the downed tree back at McHorn again. Her eyes went wide; he’d torn a sizable section of bark and wood from one of the rotting logs and was holding it in front of him like a shield. She ducked down low once more, and continued her sprint away and out of the weeds.

Her destination was just ahead.

The blue paintballs again started to whiz past her as the sandbags and crates came into view. Judy put on a burst of speed and hopped the sandbag wall. She, a rabbit, should have had no problem squeezing into the crack between them to position herself for McHorn to emerge from the tree line just a few meters behind her. She, a rabbit, could fit into that space.

The plastic safety goggles could not.

Panic gripped at her chest as her head got stuck atop the bags. No matter how much she wriggled it wouldn’t follow the rest of her body into the relative safety of the space in between them. She looked about frantically as the heavy footfalls started to pick up tempo, along with the beat of her heart. A blue paintball hit the sandbag dangerously close to her face and she threw herself back, falling along the seam of the crease so her head was now behind the wall. She stared upside down at the junk behind the sandbags, and saw her way out.

Judy squirmed out of the sandbag burrito and into the crates, flipping a shoebox-sized one over to hide beneath just a mere ten seconds before McHorn came stomping up to the narrow gap that she had just removed herself from.

“Yield, Hopps!” he said. Through a sliver crack in the crate she could see him aiming the barrel of the gun into the crease in the wall.

Judy held her breath and carefully turned over onto her back, keeping one eye on the rhino and propping her feet against the top of the box. _No way, pal._

“Last chance!” McHorn continued pointing the gun with one hoof while attempting to widen the groove with the other. Soon he’d see she wasn’t in it, so while his attention was still laser focused, she made her next move.

“Raaaawgh!” All the strength in her powerful, spring-loaded rabbit legs released and launched the crate above and away from her. She immediately rolled in the opposite direction as McHorn’s attention was ripped from the wall to the flying box. He aimed and fired at the decoy.

Judy was at the end of the sandbags and popped off a few rounds around the side— _pop pop pop!_ —while his back was to her, landing one of them square between his shoulder blades.

“Your turn, McHorn!” Judy said, and continued to aim at him as he turned, his face carved with fury. “You’re dead. Drop your gun and yield.”

He did neither of those things. On the contrary, his grip on the gun tightened and he was raising it again to level at the rabbit officer that had bested him when…

 _Pop pop pop pop!_ The sound of a paintball gun that didn’t belong to either of them rang out from the tree line some few yards away. A splotch of green exploded on McHorn’s side, and Judy dove behind the wall beside him. It was the safest place from the new volley of another enemy nearby, as the rhino was now effectively ‘dead’ and not a danger to her anymore.

Well… so she thought…

_Hiiiiisssssss-click!_

A sickening sound in her ear made her head snap up, and she stared directly into the business end of a barrel.

“ _EXCUSE ME, SIR_.”

Everything froze. No additional shots came flying from the tree line, nor from the overzealous officer’s jammed weapon beside her. The zebra referee Sergeant Cantero came over at a brisk trot. Judy kept perfectly still as he motioned at McHorn with incensed hooves.

“Bad form, Officer. You are dead,” he said firmly, and pointed in the direction of the exit. “Remove yourself from this field right now.”

McHorn laid his ears back with a subdued snort and bowed his head as he trudged past the Sergeant. The zebra glared after him for a few moments before he turned a kinder face down at Judy.

“All right there, miss?”

She nodded slowly.

“Good.” He announced to the trees as he fell in step behind McHorn, “Dead mammal walking! You may proceed in ten seconds!”

 _One locomotive, two locomotive…_ Judy slicked her ears back and peeked over the sandbags at the tree line, the direction of the unexpected shots that took McHorn out.

 _Three locomotive, four locomotive, five locomotive…_ No one that she could see, but that didn’t necessarily mean no one was there anymore. They could just be hiding behind one of the trees.

 _Six locomotive, seven locomotive_ … A shrill whistle. Judy’s ears popped up, pinpointed its location, and she tilted her head to stare into the branches.

There he was. Nick leaned against the trunk, smiling smugly as he waved at her. She frowned, ducked back behind the sandbags, and crouch-ran to the other end of them.

_Eight locomotive, nine locomotive, ten locomotive._

By the time the area was open for play again, the rabbit officer had zig-zag sprinted into the brush and was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paintball is serious business. Morbid humor and snark ahead! I hope you enjoy it. XD

_Why did he do that?_

The loudspeaker overhead announced McHorn’s ‘death’ as Judy lost herself in the undergrowth. It didn’t make any sense. McHorn was already down (as much as he had tried to get in one last shot at her anyway). She was way out in the open; she didn’t even know Nick was there. He had the element of surprise. From his position, he could have easily landed a shot or two on her before taking the rhino out.

_So why didn’t he?_

Judy puffed her cheeks. What was he trying to prove? Was he just showing off like always? Or worse… treating her with kit gloves? _Or worse still_ … letting her win?

She stopped in place and clenched her fist around her gun tighter. An unfortunately placed fiddle leaf fig got a rabbit kick to the foliage, losing more than a few of its large leaves in the process.

The next time she saw that stupid smug face of his—up a tree or not—it would be painted purple.

 _Pop pop pop pop pop!_ An exchange of gunfire not too far away brought her thoughts out of the emotional spiral they were in and back to tactics and strategy where they belonged. Judy could turn and run away from the clash, but it did give her a good idea of where to find at least two of the remaining officers. If she followed the sounds, she might come upon the victor of the spat and pick him (or her) off without too much additional combat.

Her ears rose high and she ran headlong toward the telltale noises for about a minute until, all at once, they stopped. She stopped too, keeping her ears up to listen as she stooped low between a tree trunk and the drooping, feathery leaves of a wood fern. There was no more gunfire, but she was confident she was very close to where it had originated from. She picked her way onward carefully, keeping her steps soft, body crouched, and ears down.

A few more yards ahead she came upon the aftermath of the very recent battle. Colorful splotches were on the ground and tree trunks here and there in random and haphazard patterns. Splotches of yellow… and green.

Her heart stuttered at the realization, equal parts concern, arrogance, and irritation vying for a hold on her brain. What if Nick had been eliminated during the clash? She’d been almost looking forward to making him eat his words, but… the possibility that he’d left play had her conflicted. Fleeting thoughts of _I hope he’s all right_ and _It would serve him right_ and _One less mammal… right?_ all flitted in and toppled over each other simultaneously.

After a few more seconds, a voice came blaring over the speaker system. <Officer Delgato has been removed from the field. Twenty minutes remain.>

A small bit of relief and renewed resolve replaced all the other emotions roiling around. Clarity returned, and with it the beginnings of a new plan. Nick had showed her where he was, and if he was about avoiding unnecessary risks then relinquishing his higher ground position would be foolish. Her gut said he’d probably stick to the treetops, so that’s where she turned her gaze.

It was the only reason she saw Fangmeyer before Fangmeyer saw her.

The rabbit ducked behind a tree and peeked around the trunk at the tiger prowling on all fours in the wide branches overhead. It seemed that Judy wasn’t the only one who had been lured by the sound of the scuffle that was now over. She slipped effortlessly from one branch to another that crisscrossed over it, still surveying the paint carnage and then searching up and out through the leaves overhead. Maybe she, like Judy, was trying to figure out where to head next for a new opponent.

All at once Fangmeyer stopped assessing the scene with her eyes. They closed thoughtfully while her nostrils flared wide. She took deep, long breaths through them and for a second Judy thought that she had caught Nick’s scent.

Until Fangmeyer’s intense gaze turned back in her direction.

Judy spun completely behind the tree trunk and covered her mouth with her free paw to stifle the alarmed squeak that escaped from it. _Oh, sugar…_

It wasn’t a variable that she’d taken into account, and now she was mentally kicking herself as she realized the direction that the wind was blowing had put her fresh scent right in Fangmeyer’s nose. One of Major Friedkin’s many drills suddenly popped into her head: _“Know your position in conjunction with your perp’s at all times. If you don’t keep downwind of your target, you’ll be dead!”_

 _Thanks a lot, Major… I just might end up dead this time,_ she thought grimly and raised her ears up to listen for the tiger’s movements. She heard nothing, which _meant_ nothing. If Fangmeyer was breaking out full stealth mode, Judy very likely wouldn’t know where she was until she was directly on top of her. There was still a slim chance that the tiger hadn’t seen her yet and Judy might be able to get out of the immediate area, but then...

“I know you’re there, Hopps.”

Fangmeyer’s voice was low and purling, as though she were talking to herself. It was still a sound Judy’s long ears could pick up easily, which was probably the point. She certainly wouldn’t want to alert anyone else where she was. Still… why speak at all?

“You could just make it easy on yourself, you know. There’s nowhere you can go now that I won’t find you anyway.” The sultry voice was moving, still above her but in a different place than before. “Half the match is over. Three officers eliminated before you. Pretty good run to go out on, isn’t it?”

Judy rolled her eyes in irritation. She was about to throw a sharp retort into the air and then snapped her mouth shut. Conversation wasn’t going to serve her well here. Fangmeyer’s spot in the trees had already put the tiger at an advantage, and every word she spoke gave Judy more information about where she was moving to. That meant that it was very likely Fangmeyer _didn’t_ know Judy’s exact location yet; only that she was nearby. If she opened her mouth now, her colleague would have all she needed to pin the rabbit’s position down and strike from above.

_Pop pop!_

Two orange colored rounds were fired off seemingly at random as they struck far off to the right of her position. The scare almost made Judy bolt from her spot, which was probably the purpose of firing them off at all. She planted her feet and stood firm.

“I mean, do the math here. You’re up against three superior trackers. Are you really going to risk Wolford or _Wilde_ winning the pot?” There was a huff. “I guess if you never want to hear the end of it…”

Judy tuned the words out about then, threw her situational analysis into high gear to try and figure a way out of this. She needed a place with no trees or at least wider spaced ones to neutralize the high-ground advantage; if Fangmeyer wanted to track down a rabbit then Judy would make her come to the ground to do it. But the clearing with the car was too far away now, and Judy wasn’t entirely sure if she’d successfully retrace her steps back to it anyway. Once she started moving, Fangmeyer would see and immediately start firing. No real cover here but low plants and trees, which wouldn’t hide her well enough from a bird’s eye view. Judy could fire into the branches overhead, but that was horribly dangerous. If the tiger lost her footing and fell it meant serious injury. No pool of bets was worth such a risk.

A volley of rounds went off not too far away and Judy snapped her head in the direction they were coming from. It was so close that she swore she could even hear the wet smacking impact that the paintballs made as they hit against wide leaves and something plastic. It was behind her tree, definitely beyond the most recent location Fangmeyer’s voice had been wheedling her from. So, if she looked now…

Judy held her gun up at the ready and spun around the trunk. As she thought, Fangmeyer had also turned toward the telltale color exchange a hundred or so yards away, and her back was showing. Oh, she was so close, only two more trees and the tiger would have been right on top of her. Her tail swayed this way and that in a slow, thoughtful rhythm as she stood on hind legs, attention fully focused into the distance.

She had looked so much smaller—deceptively smaller—when she was further away, when she was crouched behind leaves, prowling the tree branches. Judy’s nose twitched and she took a step back.

Then another.

Then another.

She gripped her gun, put three paws to the ground, turned the fluffy white fur of her bunny tail to the sky, and took off like a shot in the opposite direction.

Judy didn’t get nearly the head-start that she had been hoping for.

_Pop pop pop!_

Branches overhead shook, leaves rustling from the tiger that leapt with liquid grace from one limb to the next. Judy dared only the briefest of glances over her shoulder; running as she was put her low and beneath the sparse foliage on the ground—which she hoped would reduce Fangmeyer’s ability to accurately aim at her—but also increased her speed until it felt like she was strapped beneath a racing Furrari. Her heart thundered in her chest as she zipped in and around the tree trunks, grabbing every chance for cover she could get against the orange paintballs splattering all around her.

When Judy began to retreat, she didn’t choose her direction with any kind of strategy in mind. The immediate goal was simply to put distance between herself and her colleague; this was obviously not a goal that she’d achieved at all. On the contrary, little by little Fangmeyer was getting closer, and the zigzagging bunny was barely avoiding the pellets that were being fired at her. The only silver lining was the noticeably larger gaps between the trunks in the area she was entering. The trees were thinning out. Fangmeyer would have to come down from them soon if she wanted to continue following, and that would reduce the advantage she had gained from being up high. Once Judy was free to fire her gun, there was a chance that the tables could turn in her favor.

What she wouldn’t have given for her holster right about now. Keeping the paintball gun up and tucked into her chest was putting significant strain on the rest of her limbs, as well as throwing her balance off. Twice she nearly stumbled when her paw landed crooked on a divot or rock in her path, and if not for a quick adjustment in her legs she surely would have faceplanted into the dirt.

A glint of sunlight on metal flashed the corner of her eye, and Judy veered immediately toward it in the hopes that she’d find some cover to use. Her optimism was shot to pieces when she saw that the obstacle she was careening toward was the half buried storm pipe. The one that was blocked by a rotten stump and small hill. A worthless trap.

Her ears shot up and then immediately plastered back behind her. It had to be here. If she couldn’t stop and turn to face her opponent, she’d eventually just get run down and lose speed until she was hit or had to yield. She poured what energy she had left into her thighs to increase the distance between her and Fangmeyer. The pipe was right in front of her now. She prayed for a little luck.

Timing it right would be tricky, but vital to pulling this off. She ran along the line of the pipe to the open end—heard the _ping ping!_ noise of the paintballs hitting against the hollow metal shell behind her. Not breaking stride or momentum, she grabbed the lip with her empty paw and launched herself off the ground, pivoting her body around it. From behind, it should look to Fangmeyer like she swung into the pipe… but that’s not where she landed. She sailed past it instead, shrank herself down flat as a hiding bunny would in the deep crevasse formed in the ground and high weeds just beside the storm drain… and waited.

“Gotcha!” Fangmeyer was eager, almost greedy as she came upon the end of the pipe. She fired a couple of shots around and into the darkness, and from the muted _squinch_ noises they made within it seemed that they must have hit the earthen blockage at the other end. “It’s over, Hopps. Just come on out. I won’t shoot anymore. Promise.”

Judy hardly dared breathe with the sounds of the tiger on the other side of the pipe. Fangmeyer sounded winded, and was clearly panting; all the energy she had was surely burned up in the chase. She wouldn’t have another round of that in her… not that Judy really did now, either.

“You’re okay in there, right?”

Different this time; still more breath than voice to her sentence, but also just a little bit of concern coloring the edges. That came biting and unwanted into Judy’s ears; she almost would have preferred some gloating, some little bit of rancor and sharper words. It would have made what she was looking to do next much easier to follow through on.

“I’m getting a ref if you don’t yield.” More concern compounding into worry, a wobble at the very end of the tiger’s words. The sound of a hollow knock against the pipe resonated within. Judy gritted her teeth against the resounding echo that jolted her ears.

“Ah, damn it… please don’t be hurt…” A waving paw flashed orange and black in front of the pipe. “And please don’t shoot me in the face…”

The opening was wide enough to fit her head and shoulders into. A quick glance around the lip, and another waving paw. Judy shrank herself even flatter into the ground and the weeds as the top part of Fangmeyer disappeared slowly into the pipe.

“Are you even in—?”

_Now or never!_

Judy crossed her arms into her crest and rolled out to the side. Up immediately onto her knees, aimed, fired _pop pop pop_ at the tiger’s exposed rump. The purple rounds found their marks _splat splat splat_ in the thick thigh and side, accompanied by a pitched yowl of surprise from inside the pipe. For a few seconds after there were no more sounds, no more movements. Then a hissing, frustrated sigh escaped the storm drain and the arched back sank, high tail dipped low to the ground. Fangmeyer shimmied out and sat back with a _thud_ as she turned to Judy, a rueful smile playing over her face.

“Well… there goes my money, I guess.”

Judy stayed poised and ready to bolt; the memory of the shot that jammed up right next to her face made her wary of another possible last-ditch attempt from a downed officer. But Fangmeyer seemed accepting of the outcome of their short-lived scuffle. She rubbed her ‘wounds’ a few times, then reached her arms up overhead for a hearty stretch before she rocked back and laid in the dirt with her eyes closed.

“Uhh…” Judy got to her feet and took a tentative step forward on shaky legs. “Shouldn’t you, you know… leave?”

“I just got killed. Give a girl a minute to recover.” Fangmeyer cracked one eye open with a smirk. “The refs can come collect my carcass if they don’t like it.”

Judy pressed her lips together and scanned the immediate area. It wasn’t a good idea to stay idle in one place, but taking a little time to get her bearings again was certainly enticing. She eyed the pipe that was on the other side of the tiger’s prone body covetously.

“There’s still some time left.” The words ended with a wide mouthed yawn filled with sharp teeth and a curling tongue. “You can take a breather if you want.”

Another cautious step. “I’m not gonna get shot with a surprise paintball if I do, am I?”

Fangmeyer raised an eyebrow and then tossed her weapon just out of reach. “Can’t use guns when you’re dead.”

Judy rolled her eyes, but the gesture did help her feel more at ease about taking a short break to recoup her breath and put a little strength back into her legs. They weren’t able to get an acceptable jump over the tiger into the relative safety that the pipe afforded, so she half climbed over her instead.

“Am I a throw rug to step on now?” the tiger asked with a teasing tone in her voice once Judy had sat down inside the opening of the storm drain at last. “Careful, or I’ll arrest you for abusing a corpse.”

Judy gave her a stink eye. “Ha ha… never knew corpses could be so darn funny.”

She set her gun in her lap and rolled her wrist around to try and ease the stiffness out of it. She hissed at the sharp ache, clenched her fist, and repeated.

“Wasn’t exactly smart to compromise your paws, you know.” Fangmeyer rolled to one side and rested her head in her palm as she watched Judy’s efforts to improve the movement in her arms again.

“Thought a lower profile was worth it.” She shrugged. “Worked out in the end.”

“Hmph…yeah, I guess.” The long tiger tail curled up and down slowly. “You gave a good chase.”

“Thanks.” Judy rolled her shoulder around one more time, then drew her knees into her chest and crossed her arms over them. “I got lucky.”

“Damn straight, you did.” Judy’s ears shot up at a voice that somehow became both blunt and sharp at the same time. It was gone again the next second, and the purling, pleasant tone resumed as Fangmeyer continued. “Really thought I could goad you into a face to face. I’d have had you then for sure. I’m kinda glad you had the good sense to run, though. Didn’t want to be the one to break Zootopia’s hero cop anyway.”

Judy waved her paw dismissively. “Pssh… like you could.”

 _WHUMP!_ A cinderblock sized paw shot around the lip of the pipe in the time it took to blink, and pressed Judy firmly against the corrugated metal. A wide, fearsome grin of so many teeth came within an inch of her twitching nose.

“Care to rephrase your snark, missy?”

The twitching bunny nose settled from the initial startle, and a bored, withering look took its place on Judy’s face instead. “Strange… I thought being dead meant you’re no longer a threat.”

Fangmeyer laughed. “Hah! Nice one.” She drew her paw back and laid on the ground again. “Well, I’ll miss my money, but I guess it’s better I died, after all, and you didn’t end up seriously hurting yourself.”

The bunny gave a sharp exhale in annoyance. “You sound like Wilde.”

The tiger huffed back peevishly and made a sour expression. “Adding insult to injury, are we?” She rolled to the side again to face Judy and added, “What’s he done this time?”

Fangmeyer didn’t always appreciate Nick’s shenanigans, so Judy was fairly certain that the tiger would be sympathetic to the situation. She recounted the short conversation she had with her partner before the exercise began and hunched her shoulders at the end like a pouting child. “As though I can’t get through a paintball match in one piece or something.”

“So you’re mad he didn’t want to risk you getting injured for a bet.” Fangmeyer blinked slowly and reached a paw up to scratch her ear. “That’s dumb, but okay.”

Judy wrinkled her nose. “I’m not a kit, Nadine. Got through academy fine, didn’t I? I can handle this.”

Fangmeyer rolled her eyes. “Way to miss the point of the exercise. You just admitted you got lucky. Gonna count on luck to keep you alive out on the beat?” The tiger pointed at the purple splotch on her thigh; it already looked like the spot was starting to raise into a welt. “This is still blunt force trauma, and it _hurts_. You walk around with a larger than Francine attitude, Hopps, I forget… _we all_ forget… you’re only two feet tall. Any impact on you does more damage to more things. That’s just a fact.” She leveled a somber gaze at Judy. “You think I stuck my head in a storm drain expecting a trick? No… I expected a broken bunny. For a brief and terrible second … maybe a dead one.”

Judy felt a shot of icy cold in the pit of her stomach, and then a red-hot blush in her ears. “Am I made of tissue paper? I’m still an officer just like you are.”

“And constantly feel you need to prove it. Gotta show everyone you can run with the big mammals, huh?” Fangmeyer waved a casual paw at the rabbit’s grimacing face. “Don’t get all indignant. No one’s saying you’re not a good cop. Or a ridiculously strong rabbit. But even the strongest rabbit… is still a rabbit. Go ahead and forget that with the rest of us. Thank God you have someone close who remembers.”

Judy twisted a drooping ear between her paws absently. It wasn’t something she forgot, of course, but it was true that there were plenty of times she’d disregarded her limits in favor of her boundless desire to be in the action, doing and helping and participating. Things always ended up fine, though messier than the Chief preferred. Nick was usually the one who kept more levelheaded when big bunny emotions got in the way of her better judgment, which she appreciated. Why was that any different here? Did she overreact to Nick’s concerns after all? Misinterpret his motives?

“Anyway,” Fangmeyer continued, “not that I’m his biggest fan, but don’t be pissed at Wilde for giving a damn what happens to you. Partners are supposed to look out for each other, right?"

“Yeah… right.”

“Especially when they’re being stubborn.”

Judy snorted. “Yeah.”

“And stupid.”

“Okay, I get it.” Irritation flared, and Judy forced it back down again with a follow-up murmured, “Thanks.”

Fangmeyer grinned wide. “Anytime.” She paused, and then added, “That being said… I really don’t want him to win the bet.”

Judy laughed softly. “Heh… yeah, me neither.”

<Ten-minute warning!> The booming voice from the overhead speaker reminded them that there wasn’t much time left before the exercise ended. Judy picked up her gun once more.

“Did you happen to hear anyone else get eliminated?” she asked. “After that round of shots that went up before we… you know, started running?”

Fangmeyer shook her head. “Mmm, nope. Cadavers don’t exactly have great hearing.” She stuck her tongue out playfully. “Sorry.”

Judy shrugged. “Eh, that’s fine. I’ll figure out who’s left soon enough anyway.”

The tiger gave a low chuckle beneath her breath and Judy raised her eyebrows.

“What’s funny?”

“Just a random thought, really, but… it’s a little amusing to think that the most dangerous mammal out on this field might be a bunny.”

The sounds of loud and deliberate footsteps came crashing through the underbrush, interrupting the end of their conversation. Bright neon yellow flashed through the trees and one of the zebra referees stepped up beside the pipe. Fangmeyer gave him a lopsided smile.

“Looks like the undertaker has come for the body at last.” The fallen officer rolled over, grabbed her paintball gun, and got to her feet as the ref walked wordlessly past to lead her to the exit. She took a few deep breaths in through flared nostrils, locked her eyes on Judy’s… and jerked her head hard toward the trees. Judy popped her ears up high in mild inquiry.

“You’ve gotten this far.” Fangmeyer gave the bunny a simple parting salute before turning to follow after the ref. “Don’t suppose you’ll quit now.”

 _Ah, you know me,_ Judy thought and ran off in the direction that her colleague had not-so-subtly indicated. _I’m not very good at knowing when to quit._


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there folks! Look! I finished in the actual amount of chapters I said I would! It's almost like I knew what I was doing. XD
> 
> Quick note that I think you all should be aware of before reading on: I added exactly two sentences to Sergeant Cantero's description in Chapter 1. I'm putting it here so you don't have to go re-reading: **"A veteran of the force himself, [Sergeant Cantero] owned and operated the paintball grounds and hosted exercises like this for the Zootopia Police Department fairly often. He even donated a portion of his profits yearly to the Police Widow’s and Children’s Benefit Fund for the families of officers who had lost their lives in the line of duty."**
> 
> Many apologies for the mid-story rewrite. You'll see why that's important shortly.
> 
> And without further adieu... onward to the thrilling ending of paintball plot bunny!

The exercise was drawing ever closer to its conclusion. By the time the announcement of Fangmeyer’s death went out, Judy was already well away from the site of their scuffle, moving with quick and quiet steps through the woodland. She regarded each tree as both cover and a possible perch for a certain wily fox, so her gaze turned upwards often as she went along.

She must have completely cut the corner of the paintball field heading this way, because it wasn’t too much longer before the tree line stopped. A thin strip of barren dirt separated the woods from the fence. Judy assumed it probably helped the referees with mobility and escorting the eliminated combatants from the area.

Judy paused beside one of the trees and put her paw up on its trunk. Fangmeyer’s obvious intimation that there was an opponent somewhere this way was really the only thing she had to go on. Maybe there was only one left, but there certainly might still be two. With so little time remaining and the field so big, would they even cross paths before the end? And if they did… who would the victor be?

If she just stayed hidden these last ten minutes, then the pot was hers. That would have been the safe thing to do, the rational thing. And no one could say she didn’t participate at this point, either. She had plenty of shots landed and two kills under her belt, which was more than anyone else probably expected. But Judy didn’t subscribe to the “good enough” mentality. Time would run out with her still engaged, still active, still searching, still trying. It would feel like a cheap win if she didn’t continue on until the very end.

The conversation with Fangmeyer still fresh in her mind, she picked her way along the edge of the woods. The ground back here was gritty and brown, with much less foliage between the trees. The thoughts stewing between her ears successfully distracted her long enough that she missed the changing terrain, and her soft feet snagged something much harder.

_Fwump!_

“Eep!” The squeak of surprise that escaped her mouth sounded as loud as Major Friedkin’s whistle blast, and the crashing sound of the goggles against the sizable rock she’d just stumbled right over echoed in her ears. She held her breath in the quiet and hoped that her moment of klutziness hadn’t attracted the attention of any remaining officers. The world around her remained still.

She set the paintball gun down and knelt beside the rock to evaluate the damage she’d just done to herself, mentally cursing her lapse in concentration. A little bump on her shin, a light abrasion on her palm. The goggles, though…

“Ah, sassafras…” Multiple scratches crisscrossed directly over her field of vision. She took them off and rubbed over the lenses with her paws, hoping that the scuffs would be reduced. No dice. As much as the goggles diminished her peripheral vision before, now they were well and truly worthless for seeing through.

Judy set them on the rock and picked up her gun once more. Bogo’s words poked at the back of her mind, but the naysayer voice inside overrode them immediately. They were supposed to keep her safe, but how safe could she be if she couldn’t see properly? They were a detriment to her safety now, actually, weren’t they? Besides, she was so little what were the chances she’d get hit in her head anyhow? Had much worse in Academy, after all. The mask would be enough…

She left them and continued walking.

Not too far ahead was the corner of the fence. She was as far from the entrance and all the earlier action as she could possibly be. Judy frowned. She couldn’t have possibly passed her opponent by; he surely would have engaged her. Well… at least she knew one opponent would have.

Who was left at this point, anyway? Just Nick? Just Wolford? Both of them? What could she do to figure that out fast? Who was she hoping to clash with, if she had the choice? The seconds were ticking away.

Judy tilted her head back with frustration, staring up into the trees as though that would give her the answer… and then it did. Her head snapped forward again at the clever idea that struck her like a lightning bolt between her upright ears. She grinned wide and had to bite her lip to keep from cackling right out loud. If Nick was still left in play somewhere, she hoped he’d get at least a little chuckle out of it. Hell, if she was lucky, she might even hear him start laughing.

After a quick look around, Judy zipped over to a low rock that was sticking up out of the ground. She leapt atop it, took a deep breath into her lungs, threw her head back again…

And went “AWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

She stopped and turned her erect ears all about. If Wolford was anywhere nearby, it wouldn’t take long before…

“ _AWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!_ ”

Judy turned on her heels and launched herself toward the return howl that rose up into the air. He wasn’t too far from her current position; they must have been moving around each other in a semicircle to have completely avoided an encounter until now. He bit back the end of his howl as she came within range, and stomped his foot like a pup having a tantrum before he darted for cover.

“Damn it all, Hopps!” he yelled, and spun around behind a tree to avoid the initial volley of purple paintballs she fired. “That was a dirty trick!”

_“It’s called a hustle, right sweetheart?”_

She heard the thought that sprung into her head with such crisp clarity it was as though Nick had spoken it right into her ear. A return volley from Wolford didn’t allow her but a moment to appreciate the levity and she bolted away and around behind a raised outcropping. The terrain here was particularly dusty with cracked earth and large rocks all around. An overhang close by fell off sharply into a dry, stone-lined riverbed, a deep mammal-made crevice that Judy was certain helped drain the field during the rainy season.

Judy popped her head up from the rocks to squeeze off a few rounds at the tree that Wolford had slipped behind— _pop pop pop!_ They all hit the trunk, and his gun peeked around the side to fire back when…

_Hiiiiisssssss-click! Click click click!_

“Aw, shoot!” The flustered oath followed the telltale sounds of a jammed marker barrel. Eager to exploit this opportunity, Judy skirted around the outcropping and along the lip of the riverbed, closing the distance between her and her cursing wolf opponent.

 _Pop pop pop!_ She shot at him as he came into view around the tree. The paintballs flew wide and he ducked automatically at the sound of the blasts. The hopper of his gun was partially open, making the weapon unusable until he cleared the obstruction. Wolford looked about frantically, then turned his back to the bunny barreling toward him. He kicked off from the ground hard to dash away, putting a cloud of dust and gravelly bits up into the air… and right into Judy’s face.

Whether the action was intentional or not she couldn’t guess. Even if it wasn’t, it was still extremely effective at stopping her advance. She was instantly blinded, coughing on the grit that she sucked into her lungs with her next inhale. Her ears became almost worthless, unable to hear anything beyond the sputtering, choking noises she was making.

She fired off round after round in front of herself— _pop pop pop pop pop!_ —as a desperate deterrent. A pitched whine told her that one of them found its target, but without her senses there was no way to know if she was even facing in the right direction anymore. She began to backpedal as her eyes watered, and she rubbed at them urgently to recover her sight before Wolford recovered the use of his gun.

Her staggering retreat away from the last known whereabouts of the wolf ended abruptly when her foot stepped backward onto what was clearly an _edge_ , half her foot upon shifting earth and the other half hovering over empty space. She flailed her arms out to keep her balance when she realized what she’d backed up to.

_The riverbed._

The next few seconds passed in slow motion. Judy blinked hard twice and forced her eyes open to glance over her shoulder and confirm what the ache in the pit of her stomach already told her. When she turned back again the bleary, wavy image she could see through her tears gripped her heart with cold dread, pumping frost through her veins. Wolford stood poised, weapon leveled and finger already squeezing the trigger to fire a half dozen yards away. He had an excited face; his tail was wagging… did he not see? Did he not know what her back was against? No, probably not. From where he stood so far away it was very likely that the drop-off wasn’t immediately obvious. She couldn’t even make her voice work to yield, to surrender and stop him from…

_Oh, no…_

_“Judy!!”_

_Pop pop pop pop!_

She dropped the gun she held and crossed her arms over her chest instinctively as she squinched her eyes shut as hard as she could. She stood in darkness prepared, resigned for the impact that was coming for her…

_“Oof!”_

The world turned upside down and rightside up over and over and over again as her feet left the ground. Her internal equilibrium was destroyed and her teeth rattled in her skull. Judy expected a sharper pain, a pinpoint kind of pain, but getting shot with a paintball kinda felt like all those times she rolled herself down a hill in a tire back on her family’s farm.

The topsy-turvy sensation ended as quickly as it began and the world began to right itself slowly, though it felt like the ground was still rippling beneath her. Heartbeats thundered in her eardrums, blocked out the sounds of everything else except the loud _< BRAAAAAAAANK!> _of the signal that ended the exercise. It was some seconds after it had jolted some sense back into her brain that she realized… some of those heartbeats weren’t hers.

“Dumb bunny.”

The weary voice above her filled in everything else. Judy lifted her head, blinked her eyes hard to clear away the rest of the dust and tears left in them. The bleary surroundings stabbed at her insides like a hot poker. To either side were the stones of the riverbed, and the shifting ground beneath and encircling her all around… the body and arms of her partner.

“Nick?” She could barely croak his name, sand and grit still all in her mouth and lined down her throat. Judy coughed again into his chest, and he firmed his hold around her shoulders just a little more.

“Easy there, Fluff. You’re all right. Deep breaths.”

Nick lifted himself up with her still within his embrace to reposition his back against the side of the ditch as Wolford came to the edge above them. His goggles were gone, and his eyes were wide and worried.

“Wilde! Hopps! Are you okay?!”

“Oh, yeah… just _peachy_.” Nick slipped his own goggles off to shoot a nasty glare up at the wolf. “What the hell were you thinking, Wolford? Her safety gear was off, you still fired?”

“I… I didn’t even realize it…” He backed up a step, glanced around, and then pushed an open paw in their direction. “Just… just stay there. Don’t move. I’m getting the Sergeant.”

He turned and disappeared from view. The sound of his footsteps became fainter and fainter until eventually even Judy couldn’t hear them anymore.

Nick hissed a sharp breath in as he withdrew his arms from around the little rabbit’s body to prod at his own. “Well, I was right… that hurt. Ow ow ow…”

Coughing fit now finally subsided, Judy rose up on shaky legs and looked down at herself. Besides the bumps from earlier, there wasn’t a scratch—not a mark, not a bit of color—on her anywhere. Her stomach lurched as she got a good look at her partner and it was easy to see why that was.

All she could see at first was _red_. It filled her sight to the brim, and for long seconds nothing else registered except that color. Red all up his side and pooled at his right shoulder. It smeared as he rubbed at the spots of bright crimson with his paws, the occasional whimper clipping short in his throat. He eased the mask off, soft whines slipping out between his teeth when he attempted to lift his arm up to his face. The russet red of his fur smudged even redder across his cheek and around his ears as he rubbed his temples with his now reddened paws. 

“Your sense of self-preservation is absolutely abysmal, Carrots, you know that?” His voice was a varying mix of annoyance, concern, and relief as he turned to her at last. Judy couldn’t reply with any words of her own, only stare with eyes wide and unblinking down at him. He furrowed his forehead, a deep crease chiseled in between his brows.

“What’s that face for? It’s just paint. Although it sure is a convincing shade of red, isn’t it?” Nick rubbed his fingers together, swirling the ‘red’ around between his paw pads, and then his face lit up. “Oh wait, I’ve got it. Hold on, you’re gonna love this… who am I?” He smeared some of the paint over his chest and fell back theatrically against the wall of the ditch. He made spurting motions from his “wound” and said, “Blood! Blood blood blood blood blood! And… _death._ ” Nick’s head rolled to the side with his tongue lolling out of his open muzzle. He cracked an eye open after a few seconds and curled his lips into a smile. “How’d I do?”

Judy blinked away the grisly haze, recovered her breath with a huff, and then backpawed him in the leg. “You’re milking it.”

Nick waved the comment away just as Sergeant Cantero leapt down into the ditch. “Eh, everyone’s a critic.”

“Officers,” the zebra said, stern eyes already evaluating the two smaller mammals as he came up beside them.

“Sergeant,” Judy started, “let me expl—”

He held up a hoof to stop her before she got any further along. “Your colleague already filled me in, Officer Hopps.” He gave a harsh glare down his snout at her and she immediately dropped her eyes and ears under his gaze. If he was planning to berate her reckless actions any further, he seemed to decide against it in the face of her doleful disposition and wringing paws. His grimace softened a shade and he said, “We’ll assess injuries here and walk back together if I determine it’s safe to do so. I’ll start with you. Anything hurt?”

She shrank down even further. “Only my pride.”

“Good. That’s the kind of damage I prefer to see.” He stepped past her to where Nick was still sitting. “And you, sir?”

“Saw a few stars in the tumble.” Nick shook his head slightly and then turned his eyes down to his arm. “Shoulder’s a bit… stiff.”

Sergeant Cantero gave the areas a quick once over and lifted his arm up in front of Nick’s face. “How many hooves am I holding up?” The fox responded with a mildly annoyed expression, and the Sergeant gave a short laugh before stooping down beside him. “Good, the response I was looking for. Probably still have most of your marbles, then.”

Judy muttered under her breath, “Which wasn’t that many to begin with.”

Nick scowled in her direction while the zebra held his arm in between his hooves. “Hey, I heard th— _yipe!_ ”

Three sets of ears laid back from the sharp yelp that exploded suddenly from his mouth. Sergeant Cantero stopped rotating his arm and put it gently back into a neutral position in Nick’s lap.

“Ah… sorry. Got surprised.” The Sergeant snorted and dug around in one of his belt pockets as Nick attempted to salvage some of his lost dignity. “Give it to me straight, Sarge. Am I gonna make it?”

Sergeant Cantero’s mouth quirked the tiniest bit before his expression turned stony serious. “I hate to tell you this, son, but you’re already dead.”

“I knew it!” Nick threw his head back and draped his good arm across his eyes dramatically. “Damn! I had so much to live for!”

“Ah, well… I’d say it wasn’t a bad way to go out.” Sergeant Cantero pulled a length of thin fabric from his belt. The one end he Velcroed around Nick’s wrist, ran it around his neck and under his arm, then Velcroed the other end back at the beginning to form a rough, makeshift sling. “That shoulder will need heavy icing tonight. It’ll be tender for the next few days, I reckon, but if you take it easy and give it proper attention you should have normal movement again in a day or two. Anything past that, you’ll want to have a doctor give you a look over.”

Nick gave a mediocre salute with the wrong paw and said, “Will do.”

The Sergeant helped him to his feet. The three clamored out of the ditch to head back to the main entrance of the field and then onward to the visitor center building. They walked along in silence, the fox and bunny falling into stride behind Sergeant Cantero’s steady gait. Try as she might, Judy couldn’t lift her head to meet Nick’s eyes, so she kept her own trained on the hooves plodding along in front of her.

The phrase “dead mammal walking” wormed its way into her brain. Though she was technically the only officer who had “survived” the exercise completely unscathed, Judy no longer wanted that distinction. The wager won was a paltry victory against the costly damage she’d done.

Chief Bogo would be waiting, and even though she wasn’t dead he would surely make her wish she was.

*****

“You don’t think this color is gonna stain, do you?”

Delgato rubbed one of the green smudges in his mane again as he stared at his reflection in the glass of a framed safety instruction poster on the wall. The lion was still fretting vainly over the dye that he’d managed to get in his fur, much to the annoyance of his colleagues. They ignored his question entirely seeing as he hadn’t taken notice of their previous answers any of the half dozen other times he’d asked it before.

The small room that the “fallen” officers had been confined to since they left the paintball field was laid out much like the bullpen back at the ZPD station: a short podium at the front facing two long tables that were set next to each other with a modest aisle in between them. Conversation had been meandering around in lazy circles since the signal blared over the speakers in the distance some time ago. They traded speculation over who finally claimed the pool of bets, accounts of how each of them had “died,” what the best strategy was for getting the paint out of their fur. They were starting to run out of things to talk about from the afternoon’s exploits when the door handle finally turned. The chit-chat ceased immediately and the standing officers found their seats in a hurry, as though they were all back in middle school and the teacher was returning from the hallway following the bell.

The door swung inward. Chief Bogo entered first and stood at the entrance, a particularly cantankerous expression on his face and a particularly thick folder in his hoof. Officer Wolford followed close behind him with tail tucked low and ears splayed flat back against his skull. He plopped down in the empty chair beside McHorn at Fangmeyer’s table.

Judy shuffled in after Wolford. Given her lack of colors—her colleagues all noticed, too, if the abbreviated sighs that slipped out were any indication—it seemed odd for her to languish rather than revel in her victory. Then Nick ambled in and it was no wonder. Arm in a sling, multiple red marks, and his typical smug smile interrupted by the occasional grimaces of pain. Judy climbed into the big empty chair at Delgato’s table across the aisle right beside Francine. The elephant silently gave Nick a trunk up next to Judy to share the same seat as they usually did.

 _WHAM!_ The door slammed closed and everyone sat bolt upright as Chief Bogo slapped the folder down on the podium. He gripped the top with his hooves and leaned over it as he addressed all of his officers with more than a little irritation.

“Someone better have a good explanation for why five of my best officers are dead, one is critically wounded, and the only one who survived is directly responsible for the death of her partner.”

Judy’s ears drooped even lower and she cringed hard from the end of his statement. “Directly responsible” was just how she felt, and to hear it said out loud further confirmed the awful, deflated feeling that she had since the walk back from the paintball field.

“I’ve been running this exercise for seven years. I’ve never seen results like this.” Bogo plucked his reading glasses from his chest pocket, set them on his snout, and opened the folder in front of him to read excerpts from the pages within. “‘Excessive display of force.’ ‘Officer turned back to opponent.’ ‘Reckless disregard for safety protocols.’ It’s like all of you forgot your basic training.” The glasses came off again and another heated glare was shot at his officers. “Do I have to tell Major Friedkin that everyone here is probably going to end up dead on the job? You do _not_ want that bear at your funeral. Even death won’t save you from her wrath.”

A few snickers escaped, and it was instantly evident what a mistake that was. Bogo’s clenched fist slammed into the podium— _WHA-CRACK!_ —and the officers all reeled back in their seats. It was a miracle the little stand didn’t explode into splinters.

“DO I LOOK LIKE I’M JOKING?” He drew himself back to his full height and crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “Explanation. _Now_.”

For some seconds, no one said anything. The fact that they’d compromised the outcomes of the exercise was bad enough, but the fact that they did it with a _wager_ was especially damning. Chief Bogo had opinions about gambling in general, but a very particular _policy_ about gambling while on the clock. That policy was: “Don’t.” There was never a warning given as to what would happen if he witnessed said policy being broken, but it was agreed that the consequences of that transgression were one mystery best left unsolved. Needless to say, there was no explanation that they could offer at this point that wouldn’t result in either a return trip back to the Academy for a week of hell with the Major, or a similarly extreme unknown punishment that none of them wanted to even guess at.

“I’m waiting.” The look on the Chief’s face suggested that they shouldn’t keep him in suspense for very much longer.

Judy cast subdued glances at the others from the corners of her eyes, more guilt accumulating in her chest. It was her fault, wasn’t it? She could have stopped all the shenanigans in the equipment room rather than playing it up and challenging everyone like she did. It would have been a normal exercise if she’d just kept her pride in check, and now everyone was about to be in hot water. Could she take the heat for it herself, maybe? Spare everyone else?

Judy opened her mouth, ready to just take the blame for everything, when she heard Nick clear his throat beside her loudly.

“You’ve been doing this exercise for _how many_ years, Chief?”

The hard gaze settled on the fox’s smug face. “Did I _stutter_ , Wilde?”

Nick pointed at him glibly. “Articulate as always there, sir. Maybe you’ll humor a simple rookie, but let me just talk this through with you. Seven years you take groups of your officers out here to batter each other with paintballs. Same free-for-all arrangement? Every time?”

“Your point?”

“Well, I could be wrong, but after doing the same thing over and over, doesn’t it stand to reason that eventually your officers might find the exercise a touch _predictable_? Spice it up a bit?”

Bogo snorted. “This isn’t a game. We aren’t here to have fun.”

Nick waved his paw. “Yes, right, there are behaviors to evaluate and all. Understood. And sure, it’s a safer alternative to actual gunfire, and absolutely our actions should reflect those that we learned in Academy for surviving an active shooter situation. Yes, it does allow you to see any opportunities for improvement and possible re-training. But as a simulation this exercise is still inherently flawed. It eliminates the one resource that we most rely on out on the beat.” He paused for a few moments, and then added pointedly, “Each other.”

He indicated the other officers with his upturned paw. “We work as a team out there, we should be allowed to work as a team here, too. Where I’m weak, my teammates will watch out for me. I’m not going in alone without my partner—without backup—when I’m looking at multiple armed opponents. Teamwork is key to survival. That’s one of the first things Major instills in us in Academy.”

Bogo narrowed his eyes. “Is that why you’re the only one with _actual_ injuries? Don’t tell me you’re incapable of protecting your own hide by yourself.”

“Back off, Chief.” The sharp retort fired from Judy’s mouth before she had a chance to bite it back. There were clipped breaths from the others, and the molten glare from Chief Bogo shifted from Nick’s face to hers. She tempered her next words considerably. “With all due respect, sir, what I mean to say is that Wilde is right. And I’m sure if you check your evaluations there—” She pointed at the folder under his hoof. “—he’s probably the only one that behaved consistently like we should have throughout the exercise… even up until the end when he chose to defend a teammate rather than shoot an opponent.” She could feel her partner’s eyes on her, though she couldn’t turn her head to meet them. “He was actually acting like an officer. The rest of us were acting like children.”

“ _Regardless_ ,” Nick said, and waved his good paw to draw the Chief’s attention back to him. “A free-for-all isn’t the type of game we should be engaging in for this kind of evaluation. It doesn’t even build comradery. All we got at the end were sore haunches and damaged pride to recover from for the next week. We should get to have our partners to work together with, or even work as a team against someone else. Like Precinct Two.”

By this time the others were all nodding in agreement with Nick’s words, and even the Chief’s expression was softening with a little surprise and a little more intrigue. The fox tilted his head with an amused smirk went in for the kill.

“Or maybe even the Fire Department?”

The others gave a few moderate grunts and whoops in wholehearted support of the proposition. It was a well-known fact that Chief Bogo and Fire Warden Sunbaer had a long-standing, _mostly_ professional rivalry. If either issued a challenge, the other would respond with chest thrust out and gauntlet thrown down. Just the very suggestion already put a scary smile, however slight, on the chief’s face.

Nick’s smirk widened into a grin. “You like it, I can tell. Hit up Ol’ Smokey and his bucket brigade. I’m sure he’d be happy to offer up a few sacri—excuse me, _volunteers_ —for a little target practice.”

The Chief stroked his chin with his hoof, clearly entertaining the proposal. “That’s… actually not a bad idea.”

Nick gave a faux alarmed look. “Whoa there, sir! Did you give yourself a nosebleed getting that one out? Don’t hurt yourself on my account, please.”

The Chief’s face darkened. “Watch it, Wilde, or you’ll be scrubbing the paint off the field with a toothbrush.”

Nick saluted, zipped his lip, and threw the key away before again sitting at smug attention. The room was breathing easier; Judy could hear the difference in her ears. Chief Bogo went back to the folder under his hoof, and it looked like he was just about to close it and dismiss them when…

_Clack clack clack clack._

A sharp rapping at the door turned all heads toward it as Sergeant Cantero poked his snout in.

“Excuse me, Chief,” he said and opened the door further to step inside. Judy’s ears sprang straight up as he came around the jamb, one hoof closing the door and the other holding… a hat. “I don’t mean to interrupt your debrief, but one of the cleaning staff found a large sum of money in the equipment room.” He indicated the hat full of bucks that he held, which jingled merrily in stark contrast to the various low noises of alarm coming from the seated mammals. “Does this belong to any of your officers?”

Panicked glances were passed around the room. No one moved; they barely dared to breathe. Even Nick, who had one of the most polished poker faces in the entire ZPD, was sporting the same “deer in headlights” expression everyone else had on. All eyes were pointed in different directions, attempting to remain inconspicuous in the hopes that they would avoid the intense, very suspicious glare of their Chief.

“Well?” he demanded when no one offered any kind of response one way or the other to the Sergeant’s question.

Judy’s heart was beating so fast it was impossible to distinguish one heartbeat from the last. Of course it belonged to someone in that room; they were the only mammals there this afternoon. It was, in fact, hers now, but if she claimed it then she’d still have to explain _why_ it looked like that to begin with, and then Nick’s diversion would be wasted, and then they’d all end up back at Academy for sure, how would they get out of this now…

She tapped her paw against the desktop tentatively. “It is ours, yes,” she started carefully, trying to think quick to spin the existence of a hat filled with money in a less condemning light. “But it’s a… we all put together a, uh…” _Don’t say pot, don’t say pot, don’t say pot…_ “A… collection! For the, uh…”

Tongue was tied just from that little beginning, creative juices run dry. She turned wide, completely desperate eyes up to her partner. Green locked on purple, combined brain power feeding off each other’s searching gazes.

“The… Police Widows’ and Children’s Benefit Fund?” he suggested carefully.

“Yes! That!” Judy pointed at him so wildly she almost poked him right in the face. “Because, you know… we were talking before the safety briefing and it was something that the exercise was supposed to kinda… demonstrate? Make us think about? In a way? I mean, we lose good mammals in the line of duty all the time, right? Mistakes in the field, lapses in judgment… just protecting someone. And we get to walk away from our deaths today, but that’s not what happens out there, is it. It only takes a second…” Her tone turned solemn at the end, and she sucked in a deep breath to steel her voice and keep it from wobbling. “So that’s for you, Sarge. To donate. We wish we could do more.”

The Sergeant blinked a few times and looked down at the wad of cash between his hooves. “Well… that’s mighty generous. Thank you, all… it means a lot.” He turned to leave and said low and aside to Bogo, “Got a good bunch here, Chief.”

“Yeah?” He looked askance at the assorted mammals sitting with innocent expressions that almost suggested they should have halos hovering over their heads. After a few beats, his skeptical face lifted with a bit of pride. “Suppose so.”

The Sergeant left and Chief Bogo turned back to the folder beneath his hooves. He flipped the pages up again a few times before letting them drop with an impatient look at the clock on the wall. He huffed a gruff breath and glared at his officers.

“Does everyone understand why they died?”

The halos disappeared, replaced by rueful frowns and unenthusiastic head-bobs as they murmured, “Yes, sir.”

“Do I need to send you lot back to the Major for a basics training refresher?”

Bolt upright ears and vigorous head shakes. “No, sir!”

“Good. I’d better not see a performance like this again.” He closed the folder and headed for the door. “Hit the showers and get out of here. Dismissed.”

*****

Judy sat on the bench outside of the main visitor’s center with her gym bag, waiting. She was the first to get cleaned up and out of the locker room; it didn’t take long to shower, groom, and dress in street clothes considering that she didn’t have any paint to scrub out of her fur like the others did. They all left one by one, giving her parting thanks for her quick thinking and even some praise for a good show out on the paintball field. She responded automatically and politely, wished them all a good night. They left. She stayed.

Nick was the last of the officers to leave the building. The bright, macabre red paint was gone from his face, his fur once again just its normal russet hue. Like Judy, he was also in regular street clothes, khaki pants and a blue Pawaiian shirt. He had a sturdier sling from the one that he’d gotten out in the woods, and looked more comfortable with his arm now firmly supported. In his other paw was a small gym bag, and his striped tie was slung over his good shoulder.

“Sorry for the wait, Carrots,” he said as he came up in front of the bench. “Took longer than expected to get the paint out with just the one paw.”

Judy grimaced, but did her best to pull it back into a small smile. “I bet it did.” She pointed at his tie. “Did the knot finally come undone?”

“Ah, Delgato undid it on me. Petty revenge for his new green highlights, apparently.” He set his bag down on the seat to free up his paw and then held the tie out to her. “Can a hero fox get a little help?”

She stood up on the bench and took it from him with a little scoffing exhale. “More like glass fox.” She pulled his collar up and slipped the tie around his neck. “Honestly… how did you make it through Academy?”

“Well, I didn’t have any reckless bunnies to bust my tail for, did I?”

Judy snapped her head up from the fabric loop she was making, expecting to meet with a cross or at least mildly aggravated face. Instead, she met with soft green eyes and a good-natured smile. It was a face she didn’t deserve in the least, and she tore her gaze away from it to refocus back on the task between her paws, glad for the excuse to keep her attention somewhere else.

Not that she was fulfilling the task she was given with any efficiency. Judy could tie a tie with the best of them; dozens of younger brothers had made absolutely certain of that. But right now, it was all she could do to keep her stumbling paws on point. Only after the second false start did it start to actually look presentable.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Nick asked once the silence between them had become sufficiently awkward.

Judy folded his collar neatly, pulled the tail of the tie down and the knot snug. “They’re not worth that much.” Her tiny fists clenched and she leaned over to press her forehead into his chest. “I was being a big jerk. You were right from the start and if we’d done it your way you… wouldn’t have gotten injured and we’d have the money to split but I just had to go and get all insulted and prove something like a dumb bunny when you were just trying to watch my back and—”

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” Nick’s free arm slipped around behind her and drew her to him gently. “I should have known better than to bet against you, get you fired up and then pull the challenge out from under your feet… that was dumb. You were right to remind me that you can do anything.”

She shook her head. “Doesn’t mean I should. I made the whole drill more dangerous for myself and then you, acting like I’m bigger than I am.”

A few quiet moments passed between them, only the sound of the breeze and the crickets chirping in the weeds. Nick unwrapped his arm from around Judy’s back and she stepped back as he put his paw on her shoulder. She finally lifted her eyes up to meet his. It was a mixed expression on his face, half a smile playing at his lips but a furrowed brow and ears folded flat against his head.

“Do you want to hear what my favorite part of Academy was?” he asked.

The question came from left field, and she couldn’t figure out what purpose it served, but she attempted to play it off lightly. “Oh, wait, I know this one… graduation.”

He shook his head. “The Enormous Criminal Match.”

Judy twisted her face up, all the flashbacks of all the fights that she didn’t win pummeling her brain all over again. “Oh, God, _why?_ ”

“Because before we started, for motivation, Major played a short little video. Of a bunny, zipping around the ring… and then cold clocking a rhino right in the face.” Her ears sprang up as he faked a punch to his own muzzle. His smile widened even though the rest of his expression was screwed up with… something else. “Best moment, watching that and knowing that bunny— _you_ —were going to be my partner.”

Nick drew himself back and smoothed his paw over his ear, a rare gesture of uneasiness. He took a long, steadying breath before he went on.

“I never think you’re incapable, Carrots… or weak, or anything like that. You are inch for inch and pound for pound the strongest mammal I have ever known, no contest… and I know everyone. It’s not really about you. It’s more… more about everyone else.” He pointed at the fence of the paintball field way off in the distance. “I saw you stare down McHorn, completely fearless—and he’s just a brute, doesn’t feel a damn thing, I’m sure he didn’t think he was going to hurt you—but that still didn’t stop him from being a complete numbskull. All I could do was watch a gun raise to your head and I was too far away to do anything. That scared the stuffing out of me.”

Judy’s ears sank. “It was just a paintball marker… not like it was a real gun.”

“Doesn’t matter. That image is going to fuel my nightmares for a month of Sundays.” He sighed and his gaze turned to the ground. “I never want to curb your enthusiasm, Fluff, but… it doesn't exactly help that you do crazy things sometimes.”

Judy crossed her arms. “You mean like jumping in front of speeding projectiles?”

It looked like Nick opened his mouth to argue, but then wrinkled his nose up instead. “Alright… touché. But you do, though. And it’s just… sometimes I’m afraid I’m gonna outlive you. I don’t want to outlive you. If I outlive you doing this… it’s really gonna get to me.”

The strongest rabbit-sized embrace was thrown around his neck as soon as he reached the end of his sentence. “Same here, dumb fox. You think I want to outlive you, either?”

They both firmed the squeeze and let go at the same time. Nick’s previously heavy expression was lifted, like a weight had been removed from him and he resumed his normal smug smile. “Then it’s settled. We make the world a better place, both make it to that sweet, sweet pension and live the rest of our days painting Zootopia red.” Judy scrunched her nose and Nick added with a chuckle, “Or fuchsia, or chartreuse… you know, whatever color you like.”

“Deal.” Judy slung her gym bag over her shoulder. She jumped down from the bench and asked, “Hungry?”

Nick smiled. “Famished.” He grabbed his own bag and followed behind her toward the parking lot. “So much for that nice expensive meal you were gonna get, huh, Carrots?”

“Yeah, well… I don’t think anything I bought with that money would have tasted very good anyway.” She gave him a playful glance out of the corner of her eye. “Good thing I have a credit card. Maybe I can buy a nice expensive meal for the fox who saved my life instead.”

Her partner pointed at the sling. “Utensil arm is completely worthless right now. Are you gonna cut up my food and feed it to me, too?”

Judy pointed enthusiastically at the sky and then at the road they were about to drive back to Zootopia on. “Greasy finger foods it is!”

Nick laughed. “Yeah… that’ll really hit the spot.”


End file.
